


the kennel club can eat its heart out, darling

by LavenderTangerine



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Bad Ending, Collars, Dehumanization, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, F/M, Femdom, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Kraang-Human Society, Leashes, Master/Pet, Matriarchal society, Multi, Mutants Kept As Pets, Non-Human Genitalia, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Social Hierarchy, Soft Bad End, The Author Regrets Everything, april still has her powers but theyre very watered down, does it count if they were never humans? idk, for earth and mutantkind, if anyone remembers what that is, just... the kraang-humans are not great, this AU functions basically like a Petstuck AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23116360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavenderTangerine/pseuds/LavenderTangerine
Summary: “Permission to speak,” requests the turtle with hints of royal blue around his eyes.“Granted,” April allows.He and his brothers dip their heads, posture utterly submissive. “What may we address you as, Alpha?” April taps her chin, considering.“Master, for the time being.”
Relationships: Donatello/Leonardo/Michelangelo/April O'Neil/Raphael (TMNT)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the world is taking a hard turn towards apocalypse lately, so here, have some niche kinky fic.

The salesperson leading April through the breeding center is painfully chipper and boring. If she could have a moment to hear herself _think,_ maybe she could settle on a choice of mutant finally. But she dislikes pulling the Queen card on others just to shut them up. April thinks it’s A) an asshole thing to do to some random drone just doing her job, and B) better saved for those who truly deserve it.

But it’s been ten minutes already of circling the digital showcases of the different mutant breeds available here, and April’s sensitivities are acting up enough to threaten a headache, so she finally snaps out, _“Reptile,”_ to narrow down the choices.

“Oh!” gasps the saleswoman, clutching her techpad and scalp frill stiffening. She smiles too wide, radiating a desperate need to please April. “Of course, ma’am! We have a wide variety of reptiles- they’re popular for their longevity and coloring. Do you have a preference for habitat requirements?”

More choices, _ugh._ April thinks of her apartment and her vacation estate. “Terrestrial, but able to swim if needed.” It wouldn’t do to have her brand-new mutant drown in a pool or pond, after all. April enjoys her swimming. “Turtles would work, I think.”

“Of course, of course,” says the saleswoman, tapping her techpad and sending April’s orders out. “Come with me; our showroom is right this way.”

April follows the tip-tapping heels of the drone. They approach double doors, which are opened for them by male drones, and she’s brought to a plush chair to sit. A tray of drink options is offered to her, and April selects the crystal flute that’s vibrantly gold, topped with fizzing white foam.

She sips lightly as her mutants are led into the room. Four of them, follow at-heel of male drones on thick leashes, bearing handsome streaks of coloring along their sides and shells. One by one, they sit obediently with their eyes set forwards, sitting perfectly still.

“These four are the pride and joy of our terrapin breeders this year,” gushes the saleswoman, standing at April’s side. “They all hatched from the same clutch, and are the only survivors of their classes. Along with an extended life expectancy, their vitality won’t diminish even past a hundred years. Moderate intelligence, high durability- this breed is often prized for how much punishment they can take. Excellent companions and guards, absolutely loyal to their owners if trained correctly.” She smiles at April. “And here at T.C.R.I.I., only the best of the best makes the cut. Any of these four would be the perfect fit for a woman of your standing, ma’am.”

“Hm,” April says, feigning disinterest as she probes at the four mutants. Searching for ill-intent, illness, or potential for disaster. She finds simple neutrality, a level of guardedness, and… a four-way attachment between them.

Curious. April has felt the emotions of other mutant pets, belonging to ‘friends’ of hers. Nearly all of them were utterly detached from fellow mutants, excluding pair-bonds or mates. It piques her interest, more than anything else has since her coming of age celebration (the paperwork of becoming an officially available Queen is so _tedious_ ).

“How much for more than one?” April asks, watching the four turtle mutants closely.

“Would you like to purchase two?” the saleswoman says, excitement bubbling up from her. But April is hardly paying her any attention.

No, her focus is on the mutants. The neutrality they’d been projecting is still in place in their expressions; the picture of absolute obedience. Underneath that, however, emotions roil.

_NeedFearWantStayStayStayDon’tGoNeedNeedNeedResignationSorrow-_ the feedback of feelings takes a second to process and then push away. April makes the guess that the four mutants lined up in front of her _really_ do not want to be separated.

Well, her Auntie _did_ say she’d have the option of getting more than one new pet…

“I’ll take the whole set,” April replies after her momentary pause, to the utter delight of the drone. “It’s my birthday this week, I think I’ll spoil myself.”

“We’ll get the paperwork in order straight away, ma’am,” says the saleswoman.

“Thank you.” April sips her beverage, drinking in the stunned joy the mutants are feeling right now, watching them pad out of the room to be kenneled and delivered to her home.

April licks her lips and smiles to herself. _Happy birthday,_ indeed.

-/-

She spends the ride home doing some online shopping. Beds, food, toys, contacts of interior designers to outfit her penthouse apartment with a kennel extension. April bounces her leg and hums as she selects one item after another, splurging all her hard-earned paycheck this month on her new adorable pets.

Maybe a reptile isn’t as cute as a fluffy canine type, or feline type, but April has always enjoyed the look of them. Their ability to go so still, the supple way their scales move over muscle. So cute and deadly. Her four new pets will be excellent guard dogs, according to their introductory packet. Trained to patrol, defend, and eliminate intruders.

April knows that she’ll be coming into the crosshairs of someone’s vendetta, very soon here. It will only do her favors to have a couple tough male mutants on premises.

When she arrives, the contractor drones are already hard at work on her home. April breezes by the noisy work, leaving it to her secretaries to deal with. She goes to ditch her heels and suit, slipping into casual at-home formal wear instead. A nice pair of slacks, a high-collared shirt buttoning up asymmetrically, and tousling her hair into a nice bun.

She checks the color scheme of her new kennels- it matches the rest of her house; creams and golds and hints of her family crest- and patiently does some paperwork that’s built up in her inbox, waiting for one of her secretaries to come and tell her the work is complete.

“Shall I send for your purchases, ma’am?” asks the female drone, head tilted down in respect.

“Are their beds ready for them? And the supplies?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then yes, please do.”

It’s not long after that she gets to see her new pets, padding into her home and sitting politely as told. As the drones from T.C.R.I. leave, April walks over to her four boys, looking them over as she re-checks the information packets she’d downloaded.

“Code: Alpha Recognition,” she speaks, firm and clear.

_“Alpha recognized,”_ all four reply in unison.

“Code: transferral of ownership. Password: 4132678.”

_“Recognized. Accepted.”_

“Permission to speak,” requests the turtle with hints of royal blue around his eyes.

“Granted,” April allows.

He and his brothers dip their heads, posture utterly submissive. “What may we address you as, Alpha?” April taps her chin, considering.

“Master, for the time being,” she decides, since truthfully… in private, she enjoys a more masculine addressment. It’s always _ma’am, miss, Lady_ in public. _Master_ is associated with the highly cherished males that Primes will take into their clans; their only allowed addressment to their Queens.

“Master,” purrs the blue streaked turtle, giving off pleased emotions. His brothers echo the title, which makes April smile and privately shiver. She’s not immune to the occasional power trip, clearly.

“Come with me,” April says, snapping her fingers, “I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping from now on.” They follow her lead perfectly, at-heel and quiet.

-/-

They’re taller than her, standing on their hind legs. Thickly muscled, finely tuned reflexes. They’re marvelous specimens of their breed, with pedigrees to match. The papers tracing their sires and brooders are meticulous, show winners throughout the family tree.

April lovingly adorns each of them with a collar, golden tags hanging from them with her family crest stamped into it. An effigy of an angel’s wings, surrounded by a laurel crown; wisdom and power. The plaques bolted to the thick leather collars remain blank, however, as she’s yet to have names printed upon them.

As she straps the last collar onto the turtle with orange flecks all down his sides, April is struck by an impulse to ask a question.

“Do you have names?” she asks, hand lingering under the chin of the orange flecked one, scratching gently as he squints his eyes happily.

“Whichever you give us, Master,” replies the tallest, the one with elegant swirls of purple.

April nods. “Of course, but I mean ones besides that.”

“…Our serial numbers?” asks the one with blots of red in the corner of his eyes, like dollops of makeup.

“No, I mean…” April searches for the correct term. “Did your brood mother name you four? I’d rather let you keep your names if you have them already- I’m not very good with naming things, honestly.”

There’s a pause, which April feels become tense with indecision. She scratches her orange flecked pet again, encouraging him to begin purring and pressing against her hands. It wouldn’t do for her boys to be nervous of their owner, she wants them to have a happy relationship.

The others notice their brother’s content noises, and the tension eases. Her blue streaked mutant is the one to say, “Our mother did not name us, but our handler did. He trained us to be good companions as well as guards.”

So, a male drone trained them? Unusual, but not unheard of. He must have been chosen by a well-respected female. “What did he name you?”

After _artists,_ it turns out. Ones from the previous age of human civilization, before the illustrious Kraang Prime found them and raised them from the mud and filth, sculpting them into intelligent, refined beings worthy of ruling lesser species. Few humans prior to then were deemed important to preserve legacies of.

April thinks the names are perfect; male drones of a forgotten age that managed to make names for themselves, despite their primitive origins. Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo. Her boys, her pets.

She calls them each by their names, watching with fascination as their pupils blow wide and they melt into her pets and scratches. A very positive first evening, all in all. They’re going to get on just fine, April can just tell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tiktok dances my way into isolation bc the world has lost its shit]

Thorough exercise of mutant companions is advised by all the owner’s manuals; but that has to be put off at first. April lets the boys become adjusted with her home before that; giving her pets time to learn its borders, the sights and sounds around it. A handful of days later, having worked from home the entire time to assist in their transition, April begins finding each in relaxed moods.

Lounging on the plush beds she purchased for them, in pairs or alone. She takes a particularly adorable picture of Michelangelo, loafed up on one of the beds near the windows in morning sunshine. Sedately, they’ll follow her around the home as she goes about her day; they’re all perfectly polite, keeping off the furniture and watching with half-lidded gazes.

They keep themselves and their kennel clean, come when called, sit quietly when she’s conducting a conference call with coworkers. A click of her tongue and one will appear at her side, lifting his chin for scratches as she instructs him what she wants; _go let the others know it’s supper time,_ or _how do you feel about a swim in the pool,_ or simply _hello, good boy, thank you, you’re being very good, yes_ , for especially cute behavior.

Around day four of her mini-vacation after their purchase, April sees that her boys are growing too restless to hide their pent-up energy. She catches Leonardo and Raphael snarling at each other over breakfast. Donatello keeps pacing the length of their home. Michelangelo gives her especially pleading eyes for attention and pets while she’s finishing her food.

“How does a trip to the park sound, boys?” she asks, and all their heads pop up to stare at her intently. April snorts and laughs at their eager expressions. “I have a place in mind, suited to all type of mutants. Feeling up to that sort of adventure?”

“ _Yes,”_ they chorus, with a belated, “thank you, Master.” Their tails flick back and forth, showing how happy they are. April laughs when Michelangelo gets a bit too rambunctious, bounding up to his brothers when she takes out the leashes and knocking Raphael over. The brief snarling tussle is broken up quickly enough, but it’s a sure sign that April’s pets need this exercise, _badly._

Though they’ve been so good the past while, they’re still new pets going to a new place. April makes the responsible choice to muzzle each of them; her boys complying with the gentle command to hold still, letting the sturdy mesh-fabric slide over their faces. She clips each into place and then hooks on their leashes, exiting the apartment with her excited pets barely containing themselves.

The ride over is just long enough April hears one of them begin whining, behind her in the back. She shushes whoever it is, saying soothing assurances that they’ll be there soon enough. It’ll be worth the wait; the facility they’re visiting is one of the largest in New York.

The off-leash park is inside a pristine white dome, on the second tier of the upper city limits. It’s intended for large breed mutants, with a variety of stimulating environments to meet all species’ needs. It’s the perfect pick to make her debut with her new pets; April can’t wait to let them loose inside.

But, once her chauffeur has parked, she encounters a brief snag. Upon opening the back door to let her turtles out, one nearly jumps on her in a fit of excited chirrups and yelps.

“Down! _Down!”_ April orders, seizing Leonardo’s collar as his claws nearly snag her pants. “ _Stay,”_ she tells the other three, who meekly remain where they are. Leonardo whines and shrinks on himself, apologetic as possible without using words.

“Sit. Stay.” April lets the other three boys out, hooking their leashes one by one. Leonardo wiggles, distressed to be left out. A firm reminder to _stay_ and _no begging_ quiets him again, though his tail anxious wags.

April hooks his leash to his collar, staring hard at him while his brothers wind around her legs. One of the titters, laughing at his brother’s scolding.

Leonardo gives her a sorrowful look. April feels herself caving.

“Okay, good boy,” she says, letting him up and giving him lots of praise for listening so well. Leonardo regains his excited mood immediately, vibrating the same as his brothers with energy. April tells the drone to stay with the car, maybe go get a coffee if he feels like it. They’ll be a while inside.

With four sleek, stunning mutants on leads in front of her, April has a bit of a strut to her stride. She selected tight, dark pants today, with knee high boots; in case she has to chase after an errant turtle. A gauzy light blouse, gold wrist clasps, and chunky sunglasses offset the sensibility of that; wide sleeves billowing in the breeze as they enter the indoor park, tall frill and six tentacles proudly displayed.

April looks _good._ She knows she does. Her four pets just go to further show onlookers what a powerful Queen she is. She’s clearly of _the right sort,_ with a royal count of tentacles and finery adorning her person. Eyes of well-off but still lesser citizens follow their path into the gates, a tinge of envy from most bringing a smug curl to April’s mouth.

“Sit,” she tells her boys when they’re inside, standing on the grass just off the main path. They sit, so obedient. “Rules are that you come when called, you do not take off your muzzle, and you don’t start any fights. Bathrooms are along the sides of the park for you, just let me know when you’re going to use one. We’ll be here for an hour just to see how it goes, but we might stay longer if you all behave well. Understood?”

Her pets nod solemnly, betrayed by their wagging tails in how impatient they are. April unhooks their leashes and sets them free. Michelangelo and Leonardo immediately bound in a circle around her, before shooting off to play chase and tackle. Donatello follows at a sedate lope, more interested in sniffing around and seeing the sights. Raphael gives other mutants nearby a wary glance, and then looks back at April, then at the strangers meandering around them.

“You can stay with me, if you want to,” April says in a whisper, petting his head. Raphael pushes up against her hip, clicking and murmuring. They set off after the others, who are now introducing themselves to a handful of canine mutants and a dainty bird mutant. They approach just as a canine gets a little to friendly for Donatello’s tastes and is snarled at pointedly to back off.

“ _Fine,_ you’re not that interesting anyway,” huffs the canine, trotting off with her tail raised and hackles somewhat bristled. April gives Donatello a look, who gives her one in return that clearly means _what? She asked for it._

“Play nice,” she reminds him, scratching his neck before he goes off again. They walk steadily through the park, enjoying the artificial sunlight and fresh smelling air. Trees have been grown specifically to be climbed and clawed at; a wide pond is in the center, mutants splashing in the shallow while their owners watch carefully. The vast majority is open field, except for the far back, which has an obstacle course built from artificial wood. When they reach it, Raphael finally leaves her side to explore on his own. He and his brothers are racing around the complex course in no time.

April watches on from the sidelines, leashes in hand and a smile on her face as her boys play freely.

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: the author would physically fight anyone irl who thought actual dehumanization of thinking, feeling people is okay. pet play is cool but make sure it has clear communication on consent and guidelines. also don't do it in public, that's uncomfy for everyone.


End file.
